


The Proposal

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Also I'm not sure where in time it is situated, And Chuck is doing whatever and leaving our boys alone, BFFs, Canon But Not Canon At The Same Time, Castiel didn't make a deal with the empty, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Except Dean actually loves his spouse, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Gay Panic, I'm having trouble with tags, Jealous Dean Winchester, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Mostly feelings and stuff, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam got married and now it’s Dean’s turn, Surprises, The world has turned to shit so here's some beautiful lovey dovey stuff, There’ll be tears, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: In Amsterdam, one can marry anyone for a single day. Even their BFF. Castiel, as an angel of the Lord, probably will never get married. Who else but Dean Winchester could he ask to do this one-day wedding thing with?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Past relationships (mentionned)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 151





	1. Amsterdam

**Author's Note:**

> The second I read the article about this real thing you can do in Amsterdam (not the article I’m linking to, but one in French that appeared on my FB feed some time ago), I KNEW I wanted to write a Destiel about it.
> 
> Also, it was supposed to be this little thing and, as it always does, it took a life of its own. Don’t think there’ll be much more than 15K to this story, but it’s certainly not the 2-3K I had envisioned.
> 
> There’ll be 5 chapters… 4 and a half are written and I intend on posting one every day. That should give me time to finish it!!
> 
> I hope you’ll enjoy! See you again tomorrow!

“We need to go to Amsterdam.”

Dean glances up. Castiel is still looking at Sam’s computer with a deep crease in his brow. It’s been like that since Dean came into the library half an hour ago.

“Which one?” he asks, hoping it’s not the one in Missouri. They haven’t been on the road for some time, and Baby could undoubtedly use the exercise. The farther, the better.

Castiel lifts his gaze to meet Dean’s, now looking confused instead of perplexed. “The one in the Netherlands, of course.”

“Are you telling me you got your wings back?”

Instead of answering, Castiel gives him an excellent impression of Sam’s bitch face. Clearly, these two spend a little too much time together.

“Unless it’s a matter of life and death, there’s no way I’m taking a plane all the way over there,” Dean adds after remembering that trip to Scotland many years ago. Bobby had needed their help, and it had been an easy decision to make, fear of planes be damned. “Found a case?”

“No, there’s no case that I know of. And nobody’s in immediate danger,” Castiel says. “I just think we could use a well-deserved vacation.”

“If it’s a vacation you want, we can go to Miami. No need to fly to Europe. Plus… Sandy beaches, and lots of girls wearing bikinis,” Dean counters, a too-wide grin on his face.

“I haven’t checked, but I’m pretty sure Miami doesn’t offer what Amsterdam does.”

Dean has never been to Amsterdam, but he’s heard enough to know what their specialties are. He closes the book he had been unable to concentrate on, not bothering to mark his place. Whatever is going on with Cas right now needs his undivided attention.

“Wanna go to the red light district and have some fun?” He waggles his brows, to which Castiel responds with a huff and yet another eye roll. “I hope you’re not asking to go there so you can do drugs, ‘cause I won’t lie, I’d rather you didn’t. But I’ll help you with the sex thing. We got nice places around here so you could—”

“It has nothing to do with sex or drugs, Dean. It’s just…” He sighs, seemingly debating what to say next. It takes long enough for Dean to start worrying something might be wrong. Until Castiel speaks again.

“I’d like to get married.”

The reasoning behind the angel’s travel envy is infinitely more surprising to Dean than that time Cas admitted to popping his cherry – to a reaper, no less. And Dean had almost choked on the news back then.

“What?”

“I’d like to get married,” Castiel reiterates. Sadly, it doesn’t help clarify anything.

“Cas, buddy… getting married usually involves two people. Who you gonna marry, huh? Got a secret girlfriend we don’t know about stashed around here somewhere?”

Castiel once again rolls his eyes. If he’s not careful, he might get stuck like that.

“I know a wedding needs two people, and you very well know I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says, sounding aggravated. “I want us to get married, Dean.”

Had Dean been eating, he definitely would have choked good and proper this time. “Hmm… what us to what now?”

The nervous chuckle that passes Dean’s lips is involuntary. Just like his heart thumping in his ears, and the hair rising on the back of his neck. “We can’t—We’re not—I mean—What? Like us, us? You and me, us?”

“No need to worry, Dean. It wouldn’t be a real-forever-marriage. It’s only to experience the event itself.” As he speaks, Castiel turns the computer around.  [ On the screen ](https://trouwenvoor1dag.nl/) are pictures of couples – and a foursome of good looking chicks – all in wedding clothes. That and a bunch of words Dean doesn’t understand.

“Can’t read that shit.”

“Of course, you can’t. It’s Dutch.” Castiel right-clicks on the page to translate it to English.

“ _ Getting married for one day _ ,” Dean reads out loud. “That’s dumb,” he adds under his breath as he scrolls down. More pictures appear, his eyes catching onto one in particular. “Oh, hell, no! Not happening!”

Castiel comes to Dean’s side of the table to see the screen. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not wearing a fucking dress!” Dean says, pointing to a  [ picture ](https://trouwenvoor1dag.nl/wp-content/uploads/2020/01/mannen.jpg) showing two men in lacy wedding gowns and holding hands.

“I don’t think it’s a requisite. Most of the men seem to be wearing suits,” Castiel provides, pointing at the other pictures. He then turns to smile at Dean, his face far closer than it was only a second ago. “Is that a yes? Can we go to Amsterdam and get married?”

“What? Of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” Dean sputters as he gets up, his face dangerously warm. He goes to the mini-fridge to grab a beer. He uncaps it and drinks it on the spot, looking at anything but Cas.

“I found this page because of an  [ article ](https://www.bestofamsterdam.com/wed-and-walk/#You_can_marry_anyone) I read. Do you know that in the Netherlands, you can marry a local and spend the day with them as if you were part of their family? This one-day wedding thing can also be a practice run for engaged couples. Or so the article explains.”

Apparently, Dean staying away isn’t enough for Castiel to shut up about that damn wedding project. He’d love to leave the library, but he’s too damn curious. Good thing he’s not a cat.

“What drew me in was the fact that they’re also advertising this for best friends. You can marry your BFF, as they say. Only for a single day, of course. They promise it has no legal ramifications.”

Dean’s eyes shift to Castiel when he stops talking. He has a smile on his face, his soft gaze onto Dean. “I believe that’s what we are, Dean: BFFs. It means best friends forever.”

“I know what BFF means, Cas.”

That’s it. That’s all Dean can say. And even though he’d like to go and refute Castiel’s words, he can’t. Because of course, Cas is his best friend, if not more than that. He doesn’t have time to think about what that means that Castiel deflates in his seat, letting out another deep sigh.

“I know angels don’t get married, but I would still like to experience it. Even just for one day.”

“I blame Sam for this,” Dean says, opening a second beer. “You have to stop watching all those girly flicks he makes you watch. They’re turning you into…” He stops, unable to find a suitable word. So he just waves a hand at him, hoping the angel will understand – no such luck.

“Turning me into what?” Castiel asks, looking at Dean through squinted eyes.

“You know… All sensitive and shit.” He takes a long pull of his beer. “Movies know nothing when it comes to romance, you better believe me.”

“I never said a word about romance. I only said I wanted to get married. For a day. With my best friend. Where’s the romance in that?”

Dean lets out a dispirited chuckle. He had hoped he’d never have to give Castiel any kind of ‘adult’ talk, but it has become necessary. He grabs another beer for Cas and comes back to sit at the table. He takes a deep breath, crossing his arms on the table.

“You should know that for most of us humans, marriage is no joke, Cas. It’s a commitment.” Dean hesitates before adding, “A commitment between two people who love each other.” There are also a lot of other reasons to get married, and not always good ones, but he doesn’t feel like opening that particular can of worms. Not with Castiel looking at him again with those squinty eyes and that head tilt. 

“I know this, Dean. Why do you think you’re the person I want to be doing this with? I am committed to you. I have been since I raised you from perdition.”

The hairs on Dean’s arms stand up, the memory of his first encounter with the angel still giving him goosebumps to this day. He clears his throat, desperate to find something to make Castiel understand his idea is a shit one.

“Maybe. It’s just that—Guys don’t do that kind of crap. Girls, yeah, okay, they can do it, but not dudes.”

“Looks like they do,” Castiel counters, pointing at the picture from before with the two men in dresses.

“They’re probably gay. Or drunk. Or both. We’re neither.”

Castiel shrugs, turning the computer toward himself again. “To be gay, I would have to have a gender, which I don’t.” He leans forward, mirroring Dean’s position with his arms crossed on the table. “Is that why you don’t want to do this? Because you’re worried people will think you’re gay?”

Heat creeps up Dean’s face again, and he shakes his head. “Don’t care ‘bout that,” he says through gritted teeth, even though there might be a tiny percentage of it that is about precisely that. “It’s just… As I said, marriage is for people who love each other.”

“But, I do love you. And I know you love me, too.”

If frying an egg on one’s face could be a thing, now would be the perfect time to try. “I mean love-love, Cas.”

“Love-love?”

And okay, Dean could have tried to explain that better.

“Yeah, the kind of love that you wanna touch the other person, live with them for the rest of your life. You know… Love-love.”

“We live together,” Castiel supplies. “We touch sometimes. We hug.”

At this point, Dean can’t decide if Cas is purposefully a stubborn ass or if he’s just that naive. He was human once; he had sex; he even had a wife.

“I shouldn’t have to explain to you what a wedding means, Cas. You remember Daphne, right? Wasn’t she your wife?”

Castiel shrugs, leaning back on his chair. “We weren’t really married. It was easier to say that we were, for appearances’ sake. And we were never intimate in a sexual way if that’s what you’re getting at. Still, I would have married her for real, I think, had things turned out differently.”

_ ‘Had you not found me’ _ is heavily implied here. There’s a tiny prick of pain right in the middle of Dean’s heart, but he ignores it.

“You could try and find her again. You know, if you want to get married so badly, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

Castiel shakes his head. “That was Emmanuel’s life. He doesn’t exist anymore.” He sighs again. “Plus, if I’m to be married for a single day, I feel it should be to you. You’re the person I feel the closest to.”

There’s the hint of a headache nagging at Dean’s temples. He rubs at them, his eyes scrunched close as he tries to—

“Hey, guys!” Sam hollers as he walks in the bunker after his morning run. His hair is in disarray, and his face is all red and sweaty – and he probably doesn’t smell all that nice. It doesn’t matter. Dean still doesn’t think he’s ever been happier to see his little brother.

If he’s lucky, Castiel will forget all about this wedding nonsense. But of course, luck is hardly ever a thing in Dean Winchester’s life.

“He doesn’t want to do it,” Castiel tells Sam in lieu of a greeting.

“Told you he wouldn’t. My offer still stands,” Sam says as he walks through the library to go toward the rooms. Before disappearing in the hall, he stops, doing a double-take at the bottle Dean is holding. “Really, Dean? Beer in the morning?” He doesn’t wait for Dean to answer and leaves.

For the fifteen seconds that all took, Dean has been gaping at the both of them. Even now that Sam is gone, Dean can’t find the will to close his mouth as his brain takes time to reboot.

“You told Sam about this shit?” he eventually manages to say, then takes a sip of beer. It doesn’t help all that much with the dryness of his mouth, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“He was here when I read about this before. Unlike you, he seems to think it’s a good idea.”

Dean shrugs. “He’s a big girl, so yeah, he’d like that sort of stuff.”

Castiel rolls his eyes again before going back to pay attention to the computer. Dean is not back one hundred percent yet, so he lets his gaze wander around the library. Something is bugging him, and he can’t put his finger on it.

Until he can.

“What did Sam mean before?” he asks. “What did Sam mean when he said his offer still stands?”

His gaze may be set on the computer, Castiel is not good enough of an actor for Dean to believe he hasn’t been heard.

“Cas! What did Sam offer you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t… okay, that’s a lie. I kinda care! Please, tell me.”

Castiel closes the computer lid to give Dean his full attention. “Unlike me, Sam was certain that you wouldn’t find the wedding idea appealing. So he said that he would do it if you refused. Which you did, so I’ll just go and marry your brother instead.”

The bottle of beer is against Dean’s lips before he even thinks about doing it. His mouth is far too dry again, and if he’s not careful, he’ll choke on his own tongue. Because, the thought of Castiel marrying Sam, Sammy marrying Cas… It makes no sense whatsoever. It doesn’t matter that it’s only for a day; it’s wrong. It feels wrong. It’s even wronger than Dean marrying Cas. Is wronger a word? He shakes his head, not about to let his thoughts be diverted by grammar, of all things.

“No.”

The surprise on Castiel’s face doesn’t stay there for long. A nano-second, maybe, then it morphs into a potent mix of challenge and determination.

“What do you mean, no?”

Dean swallows. “You can’t marry Sammy.”

“I don’t believe you have a say in who I can or cannot marry, Dean. Same goes for your brother.” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed. Can angels get headaches? “As I said before, it’s not a real wedding. It’s only the event, with no legal tenure. It’s for fun.”

“I still object.”

This time, Castiel doesn’t bother responding. He gets to his feet to leave the library, making sure to scowl at Dean on his way out.

It’s twenty minutes later when Sam comes into the library to find Dean still sitting at the table, holding his unfinished beer and lost in thoughts. Dean only realizes his brother has come to sit with him when he speaks.

“Why do you have to be such a jerk, Dean?” is the first thing that passes Sam’s lips, and it startles him.

“Huh?”

“The guy’s your best friend, man. Can’t you just give him that? I mean, I said I’d do it if you won’t, even if I know it won’t be the same for Cas. But he says you don’t want him to do that either? You don’t own the guy, you know…”

“What’s it to you, huh?”

Sam grabs Castiel’s untouched beer for himself. As he drinks from it, he makes sure to keep a curious eye on Dean, who averts his gaze.

“I didn’t think you were such a stuck-up.”

“I’m not a stuck-up… I have principles. Marriage is not something you wanna mock. It’s supposed to be all serious and stuff.”

Sam chuckling is not something Dean can appreciate at the moment. “Shut up!”

“For someone who’s a pro at loving and leaving them, I’m surprised you don’t see the appeal here. It’s a wedding without any consequences. You say I do, and then you say goodbye.”

“That’s just it, Sam. There won’t be any goodbyes here. Me and Cas, we hang out all the time. We work together. It may only be for a day, I’ll still have the memory of marrying Cas for the rest of my life. Plus, I mean… Getting married and getting none of the perks? How stupid is that?”

Sam smirk dwindles a tiny bit. Understanding dawns on his face at the same moment Dean realizes what he’s just said.

“Woah, no! I didn’t mean it like that. You know what I mean, right? If I get married, I’d rather it be with some girl I’ll bone. I mean… Honeymooning and whatnot. Then we’d go our own way, and I’d never see her again. That’s what I mean. I’ll still see Cas all the time, so it’s weird. And we won’t bone.”

Sam smiles gently at him, then pats his hand. “Okay, Dean… whatever you say.”

“Get off me!” Dean spits, swatting his brother’s hand away.

“Would you say yes if it was more permanent? If it was a real wedding?”

“What? No! Jesus, Sam! What’s wrong with you?”

Dean crosses his arms on his chest, working on making the blood leave his face. He can’t marry Cas, would it be for real or not. Cas is a dude, and he has dude bits, and… Dean needs to swallow when he realizes he doesn’t care all that much about what’s in Castiel’s pants. He never did.

What he cares about is how there’s no way in hell Cas can go and marry Sam. Not now, and not ever. 

“I won’t fly to the Netherlands,” he says after some time, almost not loud enough for Sam to hear. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t want a fake wedding.” He lifts a pleading gaze onto Sam, only to see him looking back with a dopey smile on his face. “I told you to shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Keep it up!”

Each sipping on their beers, they stay silent for a good five minutes, the shadow of something not being said hovering over their heads.

“Vegas.”

Dean looks at his brother again with a single eyebrow quirked up. “Huh?”

“No need to go to the Netherlands for a quickie informal wedding. I mean, if you want to make Cas happy in a way that’s suitable for you, Vegas would be the best. Plus, you love that place.”

“What’s wrong with you, Sammy? I’m not gonna marry Castiel in Vegas. We’re not together, why would I marry him? Plus, I’m not gay.”

Sam shrugs. “He’s not really a man, so it works, I guess.”

“Don’t be cute. He’s got dude bits…”

Something Dean decided five minutes ago didn’t matter. As in, said bits wouldn’t be in the way, so to speak. He’s just not about to tell Sam about that stuff.

Sam shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re only fooling yourself, Dean.” He tips his head back to drink the last of the beer, then puts the bottle back on the table. “Just think about it… you know Vegas is a great idea. We can drive there, you can marry Cas, he’ll be happy, and it’s super easy to get an annulment. Or just never file the paperwork. I’ll even take care of all of it for you. It’s only for a day or so.”

Dean groans, wiping a hand over his face. “That’s an even worse idea, Sam. I’ll really be married to Cas. That’s the memory I’d rather not have. And—And they’ll probably expect us to kiss and shit.” Dean now has an owlish look on his face. “I can’t go and kiss Cas. I mean... It’s Cas.”

“Exactly. It’s Cas,” Sam says, giving a soft clap to Dean’s shoulder. “I’ll prepare everything, just make sure you pack something nice to wear.”

Once more, Dean is left alone in the library. His heart is racing, his hands are sweaty, and his mouth has never been this dry. The bottle in front of him is empty, and he’s not sure he can make it to the fridge without his knees giving out.

“Son of a bitch!” he roars, slamming a fist on the table.

The outburst seems enough to shake Dean out of his daze, and he gets up, making it to the mini-fridge without trouble. He drinks a whole beer standing up, holding the door open as he does. Once done, he lets out a loud burp then grabs another bottle. This time, he shuts the door to start pacing around the room as he drinks.

Somewhere in the bunker is an angel of the Lord who’s extremely pissed at him, most probably.

Somewhere else is an annoying little brother who decided Dean is going to marry said angel of the Lord.

And Dean is incapable of finding a way – or a suitable reason – to ax that plan. If anything, the faint tingle creeping toward his nether regions should be enough of a clue that he’s not entirely opposed to the idea, whatever he said before.

_**To be continued…** _


	2. Off to Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me warn you right now… if BACON is a trigger for you, please do not read further.
> 
> Because bacon has an important guest spot in this chapter.
> 
> As in… now I WANT bacon. 
> 
> And pancakes… and maple syrup!
> 
> mmmmmmmhhh 😋
> 
> Hope you enjoy this new chapter! See you tomorrow for #3.

There’s nothing like the open road to calm one’s nerves, or so Dean always believed. Now, he’s not so sure because this time, with miles of road behind and ahead of him, he can’t seem to calm down in the slightest. Especially not with Castiel still being so cold and distant with him.

And it’s totally Sam’s fault.

He’s the one who thought it’d be a nice touch to ‘surprise’ Castiel with a Vegas wedding.

He’s also the one who came up with a dummy case, something about a haunted hotel-slash-casino.

And he’s the one who somehow convinced Dean that marrying Castiel was a good idea. That Castiel would be happy. That Castiel deserves to be happy, even if only for a single day.

And Dean couldn’t have agreed more. It’s just that right now, Cas is anything but happy.

“We should stop for the night,” Sam says after turning down the volume of the radio, which Dean had kept purposefully this side of too loud. “No way we can make it in one go.”

“You could take over,” Dean says, glancing at him. “We’re already halfway there.”

“Had I known we’d both be driving, I would have slept a bit. I’d rather not crash the car because I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“I can drive while you two sleep,” Castiel offers, speaking for the first time in the eight hours they’ve been on the road. Dean looks at him in the mirror, but Castiel isn’t looking back.

“No way!” and “Good idea!” leave the brothers’ mouths at once, and it’s enough for Cas to glare at Dean through the mirror. Because of course, Dean had been the one to object.

“I’m an excellent driver, Dean.”

Sam turns to look at Castiel, then Dean. “He’s right. And if you insist on making it there in one go, you’re gonna have to let him drive.”

“I’ve done it before. I can keep going.”

Dean could swear he feels his brother rolling his eyes. “Let Cas drive, or else I’m shutting it all down,” Sam says in a hiss, just not low enough that Castiel can’t hear him.”

“Shutting what down?” Castiel asks, leaning forward.

Both brothers ignore him, Dean letting out a dejected sigh as he pulls over. He would love to be able not to feel threatened by Sam’s menace. Except it – the impending surprise wedding – has pretty much been all he’s been thinking of.

From the moment Castiel spoke of Amsterdam, there has been a tiny part in the back of Dean’s brain playing  _ The Wedding March  _ on a loop. It got louder after Sam announced to him and Cas that there ‘ _ was a case in Vegas and that they needed to solve it right now so people would stop dying’ _ .

That was yesterday.

Twenty-four hours ago, Dean’s life toppled over. Everything he thought he knew about himself shifted. And the worse part has to be the fact that Cas probably really just wants to marry him as a friend, just for the fun of it. For no more than a day.

He will then go back to business as usual. He will disappear for days, weeks, and even months at a time, never bothering to check-in. And Dean will be left to mourn the relationship, or marriage, he’ll never get to have.

Except he doesn’t care. Not at this moment, anyway. All he wants is for Cas not to be pissed at him anymore. They’ll say I do, they won’t kiss – or kiss on the cheek, maybe – they’ll never fill out the paperwork, they’ll keep on living their lives, and everything will go back to normal.

For Castiel, that is.

“If you want me to drive, you probably should get out of the front seat,” Castiel says. Dean’s mind comes back to the present, and he gives the angel a tight smile in the mirror before opening the door.

He goes to the backseat, making sure not to meet Sam’s eyes as he makes himself comfortable. If he’s lucky, he’ll fall asleep within a couple of minutes, and he’ll sleep right up until they reach Vegas. If he sleeps, he won’t think which is the best thing that could be happening right now.

Sadly, the anticipation and stress, and the fact that Cas is driving his Baby are all good enough reasons for him to never fall asleep. Only Sam does, snoring within the first five minutes of Castiel getting behind the wheel. Dean keeps his eyes closed, but he can’t doze off, too aware of everything that’s to come.

Getting married for shits and giggles, like they’re about to do, shouldn’t be that stress-inducing. Dean should be excited to be pranking Cas that way.

Okay! Prank may not be the best word. Except that they are making a trip to Vegas under false pretenses. All to surprise Castiel with a quickie wedding. One that won’t last long enough to turn to crap.

“I wish I hadn’t promised I wouldn’t read your mind,” he hears Castiel say after at least an hour of him driving. Dean can’t be sure that Castiel knows for sure he’s awake. What he knows is that he’s not in the mood for a chat, so he keeps his eyes closed and keeps faking sleep.

“I may not be reading your mind, but I can still feel your soul, Dean. I know you’re awake.” Castiel lets out a deep sigh, but Dean still doesn’t move. “I know you’re not happy with me right now, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this wedding thing, and I certainly shouldn’t be mad that you said no. Marriage has never been a thing for us angels. I clearly underestimated your feelings on the subject. My only hope is that you can forgive me.”

The words leave Dean’s mouth before he can stop them. “Thought you were the one pissed here.”

Castiel chuckles. “I was, which is why I feel the need to apologize. Even if I also feel that you owe me an apology for trying to decide who I should or shouldn’t marry.”

Dean opens his eyes and sits up. He catches Castiel’s gaze in the mirror and smiles. “I’m sorry, Cas. For saying you couldn’t marry Sam. You’re right, it’s none of my business.”

It doesn’t matter that Dean would never want those two to get hitched. He still knows he wouldn’t have the right to object if they ever decided to do it. Would it be for fun or not. Not that they will, but Castiel can’t know that just yet.

“I appreciate that. Thank you,” Castiel says, smiling back at him in the mirror. “So we’re good? Are we friends again?”

“We were never not friends, Cas. BFFs, remember?”

Something Dean can’t identify shines in Castiel’s eyes. It doesn’t stay there, soon replaced by the fondness that was there before Dean rejected his fake-marriage proposal. “I remember,” he says before paying attention to the road again.

Dean lies back down and closes his eyes. The next time he opens them, it’s because of the rising sun hitting him in the face. It takes him a second or two to realize he’s been sleeping, and that they’re not moving anymore. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes, to see that he’s alone inside the car.

He finds Castiel outside pumping gas right when the passenger door creaks open.

“Good, you’re up,” Sam says, holding out a cardboard tray with three coffees. He’s also handing him a Burger King bag. “Got you a couple of those waffle sandwiches you like.”

“Bacon?” Dean asks in a grunt, grabbing one of the cups. His need for caffeine is far more pressing than the one for food.

“Of course. We’re about two hours outside Vegas, in case you’re wondering.”

Dean nods, still needing a minute or two alone with his coffee to feel remotely human again. Castiel is still outside pumping gas, his gaze lost somewhere on the horizon.

“Excited to be getting married today?” Sam asks, his voice low. “You’re not gonna chicken out, are you?” Dean scowls at him.

Instead of answering, he yanks the breakfast bag out of Sam’s hand. He unwraps all the sandwiches, dropping the ones that aren’t his back in the bag. He drops the bag back on the front seat.

“You didn’t have to unwrap everything, man,” Sam says, lips pinched as he grabs his food, a veggie and hashbrown burrito.

“Where’s my potatoes?” Dean asks around a too-big bite of sandwich.

“Got you two sandwiches, that should be enough.”

Before Dean can object and tell his brother to go back and get him some hashbrowns, Castiel opens the door to sit behind the wheel. He turns to Dean and smiles. “Good morning, Dean. Have you slept well? Would you like to drive now?”

It’s Sam who answers. “Unless you don’t want to, I’d say you can keep going. We’ll eat our breakfast. Right, Dean?”

Dean shrugs and nods, still, with too much food in his mouth. Castiel also nods, starting the car again and pulling out of the gas station. They don’t speak for some time, Dean and Sam busying their mouths with breakfast and Castiel driving with one hand, holding the coffee Sam brought him with the other. The wind from the open window makes his dark hair flutter, and Dean is hit with this one particular – if not scary – thought: Cas looks all kinds of handsome sitting behind his Baby’s wheel.

It doesn’t take more than that for Dean to start thinking that he might love-love Castiel, after all. Why else would he have to stop himself from reaching out to touch him, to gently run a hand in his fluffy hair, to lick the tanned skin of his thick neck?

“Stop the car!” he pretty much screams. “M’gonna hurl!” he adds, the menace making Castiel swerve the car on the side of the road.

Dean opens the passenger side door, not even having time to get out before letting go of his breakfast in the gravel. It lasts about five minutes, and then he gets out, starting to walk as he takes in big gulps of fresh oxygen. Except the desert air is all but fresh and soothing. But there’s no way he can’t be in the car right now, so he keeps going.

Soon, quick steps can be heard behind him. He closes his eyes, praying that it’s Sam that’s joining him and not Cas. For once, his prayers are answered.

“Are you okay?” Sam asks when he falls into step with Dean.

“Maybe two of those sandwiches were a bit much.” He glances up to see his brother doesn’t believe him one bit. “Just nervous, I guess.”

“Look, I know I’ve been giving you a hard time about Cas and that wedding thing, but if it’s making you this miserable, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“I think—I’m screwed, Sammy. I think that shutting things down is what would make me miserable the most.” Dean stops walking, rubbing at the back of his neck as he thinks about what to say next. “All Cas wants is to get married, but he doesn’t want to be married for real. You know what I mean?”

Sam nods. “I think I do, yeah. But I also think you might be wrong about that.”

They stand in the sun for a little while. Castiel is not sitting in the car anymore, standing in front of it with a hand shielding his eyes, looking at the brothers as he waits for them to come back.

“So? What do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know, Sam.” Dean waves at Castiel, who has been waving at them. “We’re almost there, might as well do it, you know?”

“Cas doesn’t know what we planned to do. He won’t care if it doesn’t happen.”

Dean nods, shuffling his feet. “Yeah, but I will. As you said, it’s gonna make him happy. He deserves it.”

“Are you gonna tell him about—”

“There’s nothing to say, Sam. Do you understand me?”

Sam puts his hands up in surrender. “All right, I won’t say a word. And if it becomes too much—”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you. But I’ll be fine.”

They don’t talk as they make their way back to the car, Castiel waiting for them with the keys in hand. He hands them out to Dean when he’s close enough.

“Some people don’t travel well in the backseat,” he says, smiling. “I think it might be your case. Would you like to be driving now?”

Dean can’t help the smile that the offer prompts. “Yeah, sounds good, Cas. Thanks.”

The rest of the way goes without an itch, Las Vegas soon appearing in the distance. They make their way to the hotel Sam where he made the reservation – and which is supposedly haunted, but isn’t. As far as Castiel is concerned, it is. What Dean and Sam know is that the hotel has its own little wedding venue in the backyard, and Sam has also booked a ceremony for three that afternoon.

“I’m hungry,” Dean says as he parks the car in the hotel’s parking lot. “Tell me there’s a buffet in there.”

Before Sam can answer, Castiel pops his head between them. “Are you sure eating in a haunted establishment is the best of ideas?”

“I doubt the ghost would be doing anything to the food,” Sam says.

“Yeah, and we can keep an eye on the place while we eat.”

Castiel is squinting again. “What does this ghost actually do, Sam? You never told us. You only said that there was a haunting and that people were dying.”

“Can we talk about this after breakfast?” Dean says, opening his door. “Don’t feel like talking about gruesome stuff when I’m about to stuff my face.”

Sam does the same to step outside the car, an unsatisfied Castiel doing the same. “You already had breakfast, Dean.”

“Yeah, and I chucked it all out. Now, I’m hungry. We can talk about the case once we get to the room.” As he speaks, Dean keeps his gaze averted. Castiel grabs his arm to stop him.

“Why are you lying?”

“M’not lyin’…”

Dean almost sighs in relief when Sam butts in. “Cas, pretty sure he’s not lying, I’m a bit hungry myself. Those sandwiches we had before aren’t nutritious enough to keep us fed for long. And Dean was sick, so his stomach is empty. I promise we’ll talk about it later.”

As it travels between Dean and Sam, Castiel’s gaze becomes less suspicious. Until he nods, apparently convinced. “Very well.”

After checking in the hotel and dropping their bags in the rooms – separate ones for Dean and Sam, something else Castiel will probably have questions about – they make their way back down to the hotel’s buffet. It’s as if Dean was never sick, coming back to the table with a plate piled high with pancakes and bacon, all doused in syrup. Sam’s own plate is far healthier, with a cheese omelet and a salad overflowing with various veggies.

Castiel chooses not to eat – he doesn’t have to anyway – and sits between them, surveilling the room over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“I don’t think the dining room is something we should worry about,” he eventually says. “I can’t feel anything wrong in here. Nothing spectral, anyway,” he adds, looking pointedly at Dean’s second serving of pancakes and bacon.

“Stop judging me,” Dean says around a mouthful. “Told you I was hungry.”

“You did,” Castiel says, agreeable. “I’m glad I don’t need sustenance when I see how you go about it.”

“Tastes good. I’m happy.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, something he does far too often in Dean’s opinion but says nothing more. Dean resists the temptation of sticking his tongue out, shoving a forkful of pancakes in his mouth instead.

“I’ll go take a look around, see if I can sense anything.” Castiel looks away from Dean to address Sam. “Where did the—Where did the ‘events’ happen?”

Sam, who doesn’t have food to stuff his face with anymore, drops his paper napkin on the plate. “I’ll walk around with you while Dean finishes working on his impending heart attack.”

Dean doesn’t have time to get offended, Castiel gently squeezing his shoulder. “No need to be worried about your brother, Sam. Whenever I have the chance, I make sure his arteries are clear. Also, when I rebuilt him after rescuing him from Hell, he was remade without all of his health issues. Nearly perfect, like a newborn.”

“Tol’ you I had been _re-hymenated_ ,” Dean says, still with his mouth full of food, to which Sam rolls his eyes.

“I did no such thing. Men don’t have hymens, Dean.”

Sam starts laughing, and Dean ignores him in favor of scowling at Cas. “I don’t care. I was a virgin again is all I’m saying.”

Before Castiel can refute Dean’s words again, Sam grabs him by the shoulders to steer him out of the dining room, making sure to turn to Dean and wink at him before they leave. “Join us in my room when you’re done,” he says.

Dean watches them go, intended on clearing his plate. He’s not all that hungry anymore, but he’s stubborn, and there’s no way he could ever let food go to waste – especially not bacon.

_**To be continued…** _


	3. The Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff… lots of sweet fluff… well, there’s a bit of anguish, some panic, but only for flavor, you know?
> 
> And, if I have been to weddings before, first of all they were always in French. Second, they weren’t in Vegas, nor were they gay. In other words, I would never have known how to write up a wedding ceremony. I used some of what I found [here](https://images.theknot.com/SecularWeddingCeremonyScript4.pdf) and adapted it for our boys. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you again tomorrow! I hope you like it!

It’s Castiel who opens Sam’s door when Dean knocks on it. “You took your time,” he says as he pulls him inside, the door softly shutting behind him. “Sam, we’re ready to learn all about the case.”

Dean puts on a curious expression as he sits on the bed. “Yeah, Sammy. What are we looking for?”

Sam is also sitting on the bed with his laptop open in front of him. “Like I said back home, we’re most probably dealing with a haunting.”

“Most probably?”

Sam nods, not looking at Castiel. “Yeah… it’s the only thing that makes sense if we go with what the witnesses are saying. The usual stuff, you know? Cold spots, power going on and off, apparitions.”

“Apparitions? What kind of apparitions?”

“Most speak of a girl in a wedding dress. Like, an old one. I looked it up, and there was this girl that died here in the fifties.”

“She died in this hotel? On her wedding night? How?”

Usually, Dean would also be asking questions, except he can’t think of any. Not when he knows nothing of what Sam is saying is true. So he waits, giving Cas a quick nod if only to say he agrees with his line of questioning.

“It wasn’t this hotel back then, but they did keep parts of the original chapel that was here. It’s in the garden, right there,” Sam says, going to the window. He beckons Sam and Dean to join him, pointing at the hotel’s wedding amenities.

“They kept the original arch, and they built a gazebo around it. So get this: That poor girl? She never got to have a wedding night. She never got to say ‘I do.’ The legend says that she collapsed in the aisle on her way to the altar. What was never determined is why. She was young and healthy, and some believed she was poisoned. Her still haunting the place kind of tells me they were right.”

Dean hums, not paying attention to the story as he keeps his eyes on the gazebo. At first, he had been worried that it would be all girly with flowers everywhere, or incredibly cheesy. He could have worked with cheesy, but not with girly.

What he sees in the garden is neither of those. What it is, is perfect. Literally. If Dean had been the one to choose, it would have been precisely that. Nothing too extravagant, the arch made of dark ornate wood, and crowded by green vines. The gazebo is of similar wood, and the sheer white curtains just make it romantic enough.

“You think the original arch is what is keeping her here?” Castiel asks. “Didn’t you say she never even reached it? Plus… why would her spirit be acting out now? You said she died in the nineteen-fifties?”

Sam clears his throat. “Not sure,” he says. “I mean, the story is a bit shaky. And the hotel hasn’t been open that long, and this wedding stuff is somewhat new. Anyway… She’s told to appear whenever there’s a ceremony happening. Not everyone dies, but some did… grooms, mostly.” He doesn’t let Castiel ask whatever he’s about to ask. “There will be a wedding down there at three. I think we should be there in case she appears.”

“All right.”

“There’s just one thing, Cas,” Sam says again, not looking at Dean anymore. “We’ll have to look a bit nicer if we don’t want to stick out like sore thumbs. We’ll need to blend in.”

Dean chuckles. “It’s Vegas, Sam. Most people are drunk out of their minds when they get married here. Who cares what we’re wearing?”

“Apparently, the ones getting married there today, they do.”

Squaring his shoulder as if to appear taller, Dean makes sure to face Sam while turning his back to Castiel. “I’m sure they don’t care about that,” he says, hoping he sounds assertive enough for his brother to back down.

“Believe me, Dean.” Sam leans in, making sure to hide his face from Castiel. “They do,” he says, and it almost sounds like a menace. “And if they don’t get the wedding they want, then there’s no point, is there?”

“I do agree with Sam,” Castiel says, oblivious to the real issue being discussed. “I already have a suit on, but you two should at least be wearing your FBI disguises.”

Sam doesn’t answer, instead quirking an eyebrow and giving Dean a pointed look. Dean rolls his eyes, defeated. “Guess I’ll wear my suit, then.”

“Where’s everyone?” Castiel asks when they make their way toward the gazebo. “Don’t weddings usually include guests?”

Dean’s mouth is dry, so it’s a relief to see Sam answer.

“Normal weddings, yeah, I guess,” he says. “Vegas weddings, not so much.”

“But you said we needed to dress up so we wouldn’t be ‘sticking out like sore thumbs’,” Cas counters, finger quotes included. He looks down at himself, flattening his tie. “I’m not dressed all that differently, save for my coat you said I had to leave upstairs, but I’m pretty sure Dean would—”

“Speaking of Dean… Dean? Isn’t there something you’d like to tell Cas?” Sam says, smiling. Castiel squints at him, not too happy to have been interrupted, but he still stops and turns to look at Dean.

He tilts his head. “Are you okay, Dean? You look flushed,” he says, placing a hand over Dean’s forehead. Dean bats the hand away, his face even redder now.

“Yeah, I’m good… hmm…”

“Is that everyone?” they hear behind them.

The three men turn at once to see a black woman well in her sixties wearing a baby pink pantsuit. She smiles, holding out two boutonnieres. Dean swallows, Castiel squints, and Sam smiles back at her as he takes one of the little bouquets.

“Let me,” he says, working to pin it on Castiel’s lapel.

While he does that, the woman looks at Dean. “I take that you’re the other lucky groom, then? My name is Myrtle, I’ll be the one marrying you,” she says as she pins the boutonniere on his lapel.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

Castiel’s voice is probably the highest Dean has ever heard it, Jimmy-Novak-days included. He turns to see the angel looking about as spooked as he was when they went to that brothel years ago. The sight makes his heart skip a beat, and all Dean wants is to erase that look from his best friend’s face. He swallows down all his issues and smiles.

“Surprise,” he says, his voice soft. “With everything you’ve done for me, I figured I could at least give you this.”

He keeps his gaze locked onto Castiel’s, not that he could look away even if he tried. What he sees in there, he’s never seen before, not from the angel and not from anyone else. It’s beautiful, and it makes his heart sing.

“It’s not Amsterdam, but we thought you’d be okay with this option,” Sam says. “Are you guys ready?”

They don’t answer, and Sam has to wave a hand between their faces for them to get out of their trance. He chuckles, motioning at the gazebo where Myrtle is waiting for them. She’s fiddling with a tablet, and soon a string version of Led Zeppelin’s  _ Stairway to Heaven _ starts to play. The three of them make it down the aisle, Cas and Dean side by side, until Castiel stops.

He looks around, leaning toward Dean to speak. “Who will be looking out for the ghost while we do this?”

Dean chuckles. “There’s no ghost, Cas. T’was all a ruse to get you here.”

“But why? Would you have asked, I would have said yes.” Castiel is frowning now. “May I remind you that I was the one to speak of this first? Plus—Isn’t this—Real?”

“You asked, and then I said no, and then…” He points at Sam. “It was his idea!” When Castiel’s face falls, Dean grabs his hand to squeeze it. “No, buddy, I mean… Sam thought it’d be a good idea to make it a surprise. Well, it was also his idea to do this in Vegas.” He feels his face warm up some more. “I didn’t want to do this at first, but then… I get it, all right? Lemme give you this. Vegas weddings are only as legit as you make them, so don’t worry.”

What Dean wanted to say was, ‘ _ I don’t mind that it’s a real wedding, if you’ll have me.’ _ , but he’s not about to put himself on the line of fire. Not when he’s one hundred percent certain he’ll be gunned down.

Myrtle sounds highly amused when she addresses them again. “It’s not time for the vows just yet, fellas. And ideally, you’d be up here with me?”

Sam’s chuckling sparks Dean to let go of Castiel’s hand. He moves his now free hand to the small of Castiel’s back to guide him forward. The gesture feels oddly natural. They soon reach the gazebo, Myrtle nodding at them in a silent greeting. She turns the music off.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to the wedding of Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak. You both look very handsome. My name is Myrtle Brown, and I am a certified Las Vegas State Wedding Officiant. It is my honor to be officiating this wedding.” 

She pauses as if giving a minute for someone to object.

“It all began when Castiel raised Dean from perdition.” Myrtle winks at Dean and leans in to speak in a hush. “Your brother is quite the poet if you ask me. I’m glad you’re doing better, whatever it was that had you struggling.” She straightens up to address everyone again. 

“Did you ever dream it would lead to a day like this? Can you believe it? Well, it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s even more marvelous than anything you’ve ever dreamed of. Please face each other and take each other’s hands so that you may see the gift that they are to you.”

Facing one another isn’t difficult. What Dean can’t bring himself to do is grab Castiel’s hands as instructed. It’s Cas who moves, giving him a soft smile as he grabs Dean’s trembling hands.

“These are the hands of your best friend,” Myrtle continues, “Strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow and forever. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch will comfort you like no other.”

As if on cue, the three men clear their throats, the imagery an uncomfortable one. Well, it probably is for Cas and Sam. For Dean? It’s, in fact, not all that bad, but he’s not about to tell anyone that. He drops his gaze, afraid Castiel could see the truth in there.

“These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it, support and encouragement to pursue your dreams, and comfort in difficult times. And lastly, these are the hands that even years from now will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just one touch.”

As Myrtle says the words, Dean feels a familiar prickly warmth invade his body, starting from the hands. He looks up at Cas, daring to meet his eyes again. When he notices the tears in Castiel’s eyes, he wonders if the angel has ever cried. Also… Were his eyes always that bright of a blue?

“I don’t believe either of you has prepared vows, did you?” Myrtle asks. Before Dean can confirm, Castiel turns to her.

“I haven’t prepared anything, but I would still like to say something. If that’s all right,” he adds, looking back at Dean.

Although tempted to tell him to shut his pie hole, Dean decides against it and nods. Might as well let him have the whole experience. Castiel’s answering smile is more than worth it.

“Dean, from the moment I saw you, how brightly your soul shone, I knew you were special. I mean, I already knew you were special, but I never thought you would become so important to me. I may have existed for eons, it’s only when I met you that I truly started to live. You are my BFF – Best Friend Forever – and I am grateful that you consider me to be yours as well. Thank you for marrying me, Dean.”

And okay, Dean can feel his own eyes filling up with tears now. He takes a deep breath, hoping they’ll just evaporate and not spill. He looks at Myrtle, wondering why she’s not going forward with the ceremony. She’s looking at him, expectant.

Oh…

“Mmh—I—I didn’t prepare anything,” he manages to say, sending Cas an apologetic look.

“Just go with your heart, handsome,” Myrtle says, patting lightly over her own heart.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Castiel counters softly. “I know words are not your favorite thing. I need nothing more than this.”

Dean glances at his brother. He’s the only one that doesn’t have an understanding look on his face. Dean scowls at him, rolls his eyes, clears his throat. “I can do words.” He clears his throat again if only to give himself some time to think.

“Cas—Castiel—You saved my life. More than once, too. Don’t think I ever thanked you, not really. So thanks.” He hates that he can feel his ears warming up. Soon, his whole face will be an alarming shade of red. “And yeah, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. There’s nobody else I’d do this for. Would it be for a day or forever.”

Both Castiel and Sam gasp at Dean’s words, who himself knows he probably looks like a fish out of water. He closes his mouth with a pop, worried about what else could decide to come out.

When it becomes apparent that Dean won’t say another word, Myrtle nods, apparently satisfied.

“Wedding rings are a symbol of commitment and love,” she says, barely looking at her notes. “The rings are circular, like their love, with no beginning and no end. They represent what has been and what will always be. They are made of solid, sturdy material which is meant to survive years and years of hand-holding, washing dishes, swimming, and tender caresses.”

_ Beheading vamps and wolves, _ Dean’s brain completes for him, and he almost chuckles at that.

“Couples wear their wedding rings every day as a symbol of their love. Sam? I believe you have the rings?”

Sam appears next to Dean and Cas, holding out rings to each of them. They share a confused look as they take them. The bands are simple, the brushed iron making them look a bit rough: They’re perfect.

“Castiel, you will go first. Please place Dean’s ring on the tip of his ring finger and repeat after me: I love you. My heart is in this ring. My love is in this ring. I promise to be your faithful husband, to love you through the best and the worst, through the difficult and the easy. I promise you my unconditional love and I give you my unwavering trust. When you look at this ring, remember that I love you always.”

As instructed, Castiel repeats every one of Myrtle’s words, never once looking away from Dean, who is starting to feel like he’s going to pass out. This whole thing is too damn much.

“You may slide the ring all the way onto his finger,” she says, then turns to Dean. “Dean, it’s your turn, repeat after me: Castiel, thank you for my beautiful ring. I love you. My heart is in this ring.”

Myrtle stops, waiting for Dean to repeat, but he’s stuck. Thanking Cas for the ring should be easy, but telling him he loves him? It’s too much to ask. It doesn’t matter that it might be true, this whole thing is supposed to be for fun. And right now, Dean’s not having fun at all.

“Dean?” Myrtle says, looking concerned now. “Do you need me to repeat the words for you?”

“You don’t need to say anything,” Castiel says once more, then addresses Myrtle. “Can he just put the ring on my finger, and we’d be done? I don’t need the words. We’re just—”

“My brother gets bad anxiety sometimes, speaking might not be a good idea right now,” Sam says as he comes to stand next to them. He puts an arm around Dean’s shoulders. “Maybe we can just give him a minute to breathe?” he asks Dean, who just nods.

As they wait for Dean to find his words again, Myrtle’s suspicious gaze travels between the three men. The smile Dean manages to give her seems to be convincing enough.

“Would you like me to have you say a shortened version of what I had Castiel repeat?” she says, to which Dean nods again. “All right. Dean Winchester, do you, with all of your heart and soul, agree to all the same things Castiel just agreed to? You can nod if you wish.”

Hating that he’s too much of a wimp to even go through the whole thing without breaking down, Dean swallows and nods. Then he shakes his head to force out an unnecessary “I do.” The look on Castiel’s face as the words make it out is almost enough to break the spell. Almost. Once he gets a couple of drinks in him, Dean should be able to find his words again, but right now, he’s empty.

“It’s been my honor to officiate your ceremony this afternoon. And now I get to say something you’ve been looking forward to hearing for a long time. By the powers vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you, Castiel and Dean, married. You may kiss your husband.”

Maybe because he lost his words, Dean feels he owes Castiel something real. And, well… He won’t lie, he’s damn curious. What he doesn’t know is what Cas thinks about the idea. He licks his lips, his gaze shifting between Castiel’s eyes and lips.

“May I?” he asks, his voice hoarse and low. He interprets Castiel licking his lips and looking at Dean’s lips as a yes. He leans forward, pressing his mouth against Castiel’s, ever so softly. With all its subtlety, Dean still feels it all the way down to his toes.

He opens his eyes to see Castiel looking back at him, wide-eyed and flushed. And Dean knows he looks the very same.

_**To be continued…** _


	4. Some Kind of Honeymoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you might imagine from the rating of this story (Mature), there’s no smut here. There’s fluff, and lovey-dovey stuff, but nothing very specific or raunchy.
> 
> Mostly? There’s looooooooove. Me like love. Me especially like Destiel love. We may never get it, but that’s fine, we can imagine it in so many ways that for me, they are canon. 
> 
> I really do hope you like this story, and that it kind of makes you feel good in those trying days. I hope to see you tomorrow for the conclusion of this little story of mine. In the meantime, I hope you’re all doing okay and being as safe as you can.
> 
> Take care! 💜💜💜

Dinner that night is mostly silent. Actually, since the ceremony, nobody said much of anything. Well, not since Dean snapped at his brother so he’d stop clapping and whistling and making all sorts of very uncomfortable comments.

They’re all having dinner in Dean’s – and Cas’s – room. At first, Sam had wanted to make himself scarce, but both Castiel and Dean convinced him otherwise.

“But it’s your honeymoon,” he had countered with a shit-eating grin.

“Exactly,” was all Dean had been able to answer, his wits still not back one hundred percent.

That was two hours ago, and now, with nothing left to eat, it shouldn’t take long for Sam to go.

Sam is getting antsy, right about to walk out and leave Dean alone with Cas. Before Sam can make his move, Dean gets up to grab the new bottle of Jack he had packed, knowing it would no doubt become necessary. He grabs the glass from the bathroom as well the complimentary mugs to fill them halfway with the liquor.

Sam purses his lips at him. “One drink,” he says as he grabs the glass. “Then, I’m leaving you guys alone.”

Dean rolls his eyes, handing one of the cups to Castiel. “It’s barely six o’clock, man. I say we go downstairs and play some poker.”

“You know you can’t really hustle in here, right?”

“I know… I just like the game.”

Sam also rolls his eyes, then addresses Castiel. “Is that what you wanna do, Cas?”

Castiel shrugs. “I’ve never been to a casino—” he only has time to say before Dean swallows down his whiskey.

“You heard the man,” he says, clapping his hands together. “Come on, Sammy… It’s my wedding day—hmm—our wedding day. Let this be your gift to us.”

“Yes, Sam. Please, come with us. I very much want to experience the art of gambling.”

An hour later, they are downstairs, Sam and Dean sitting at a poker table. As for Castiel, he abandoned the brothers the second he saw the slot machines, now sitting at one close by with a bucket of coins.

At least, this way, Dean can keep an eye on their friend – his husband. He glances at him enough times for Sam to notice.

“He’s not gonna disappear, Dean,” he says, his voice low as he taps a finger on the table.

“I know.”

Still, he keeps looking at Castiel. It takes the dealer raking the chips for Dean to be shaken out of his contemplation. He’s surprised to find himself out of chips already. As for Sam, he seems to be doing good for himself, a nice amount piled in front of him.

He goes to grab what he needs to play from his brother’s pile, but Sam slaps his hand away. “No money, no play.” He smirks. “Go see your husband. Maybe he’ll give you some.”

Dean scowls at him. “Bitch!” he says as he leaves the table, Sam laughing and letting out an affectionate ‘jerk’ before going back to his game.

It doesn’t matter that he’s technically married to Cas, Dean isn’t about to ask for money. Plus, he probably only has a couple of coins left, and you can’t play poker with coins.

The closer he gets to the machines – and Cas – the more nervous he gets. Which is ridiculous. Castiel is still Castiel, Dean is still Dean, and it’s certainly not a fake-not-fake-ceremony that’s going to change that. He takes a deep breath, straightens up and—

Weirdly enough, it isn’t the overflowing buckets – yes, plural – Castiel has with him that shocks Dean the most. It’s the lady with the heavy makeup and strong perfume sitting next to him with her hand on Cas’s knee.

What happens next feels like a dream for Dean. He can only watch as his hand wraps softly around Castiel’s neck, dipping down to kiss his temple and say, “Hey there, babe. Who’s your friend.?”

The shock on Castiel’s face would no doubt be comical had Dean been inclined to laugh right now. But he isn’t, sending the lady a challenging glare instead. She blushes a bit, then smirks.

“I knew this was too good to be true,” she says. “A man this handsome who’s not a creep? He HAD to be gay. Nice to have met you, Castiel,” she adds as she gets up and leaves with her bucket and drink.

“Same here,” Castiel manages to say, but she’s already too far to hear him. “I think she was flirting with me.”

“You think?” Dean says, sitting where the lady had been. He doesn’t have time to say anything else that Castiel takes one of his buckets and gives it to Dean.

“You have to play if you want to sit here,” he says. As he speaks, he takes a coin and drops it in the slot before pulling on the lever. Dean doesn’t even watch what happens, entranced by Castiel being so close to him. “You lost.”

Dean certainly couldn’t care less. Without looking, he grabs a coin from the bucket and does the same Castiel did, never once looking at the machine.

“You lost again,” Castiel says.

The words tumble out of Dean’s mouth. “Is it just me or… There’s something happening here, isn’t there?”

Castiel blinks a couple of times and tilts his head. “A lot of things are happening, Dean.” He squints. “Or do you mean something we should be taking care of?” Castiel leans forward, Dean’s eyes falling to his mouth the way it did earlier. “A ghost, maybe?”

Dean shakes his head, once more at a loss for words. He licks his lips and forces his eyes back up to see Castiel’s gaze has diverted to his mouth.

“Fuck it,” he murmurs before catching Castiel’s mouth with his. This time, it’s not as subtle, mostly thanks to Castiel wrapping both arms around his neck, one of his coin buckets crashing to the floor as he moves forward.

Dean lets Castiel’s tongue in, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist to pull him closer. He knows they’re in a very public place right now; he just doesn’t care enough to stop. It takes someone clearing their throat next to them and tapping Dean on the shoulder for them to separate, panting.

A security guard is standing there, a couple of older ladies next to him and glaring at them. “Glad you boys are having fun, but some people would like to play.” The ladies nod, giving the machines they’re sitting at a pointed look. “You can stay there, but only if you play.”

It’s Castiel who decides, grabbing Dean’s hand to pull him away from the machines.

“Hey! Your coins!”

“Keep ’em,” Dean calls back without giving the money a second thought. Castiel’s hand in his is all he can think about right now. That, and how amazing that kiss just was. So he follows Castiel to the elevators, eager to get his mouth on him again. When he tries to kiss him, Castiel moves away.

Dean’s heart skips a beat. “Cas?”

“Patience,” Castiel says, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Dean nods and swallows, squeezing Castiel’s hand back.

The closer to the room they get, the more Dean gets nervous. What in the hell is supposed to happen now? Is Castiel expecting, like, full-on sex stuff? And if so, who’s to be doing what? Questions roll around in his mind, and when they finally walk into the room, Dean is pretty much hyperventilating.

He lets go of Castiel’s hand and goes straight to the bottle of Jack and drinks directly from it. He’s about five gulps in when the warmth starts spreading through him. He puts the bottle back down and turns to Castiel. He’s standing near the door, looking at him with concern.

“I think we need to talk,” Castiel says. Dean considers drinking some more but decides against it.

“Maybe,” he answers, motioning to the bed so Castiel would sit. He does, and Dean does the same. The distance between them feels too big, wrong.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel says after some time. He keeps his eyes on the hands he has clasped on his lap. “It really means a lot that you accepted to do this for me.” He finally looks at Dean, a sad smile on his face. “You don’t need to do anything more than that.”

“Like what? Kiss you?” Dean swallows, forced to contemplate the end of what hasn’t started. “I—I won’t kiss you again. I’m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed….” He gets up from the bed. “You can keep the room. I’ll be over at Sam’s.”

The hand that grabs Dean’s is shaky and warm. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, Dean. I just want to make sure you don’t feel obligated. When I asked you to marry me, it was nothing more than an event between friends. Something that would have no repercussions in the long run.”

Dean swallows, debating if he can say what he wants to say. Once more, he doesn’t get to decide as word vomit, for lack of a better word, falls from his lips.

“That was the reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it, Cas. I knew that it wasn’t anything serious for you, and somewhere in the back of my mind, that didn’t work for me. If I were to marry you, I wanted it to be real.”

He feels hot and sweaty enough to wonder if he has a fever. But Dean knows better, his heart beating so hard he’s worried it’ll jump out of his chest.

“What changed your mind?” Castiel asks, his voice soft.

Dean shrugs. “Sam, I guess—I mean—I didn’t know why I said no before he started busting my chops about it. Then he said we could go to Vegas. That you deserved to be happy.” For the first time in a while, Dean meets Castiel’s gaze. “Are you happy?”

Castiel’s smile has never been this bright. “Wholeheartedly. But not just for the wedding, which I truly appreciate.” He cups a hand over Dean’s stubbled jaw. “Never in a million years would have I believed that you, Dean Winchester, could want me the way I want you.”

He leans forward to kiss the corner of Dean’s mouth gently. Dean swallows.

“I don’t know how I want you,” he confesses in a hush. “What I know is that kissing you is hella nice.”

“I agree,” Castiel says, kissing the other corner of his mouth, then sliding his lips to his cheekbone. “Would I only be allowed to kiss you from here to eternity, I’d be content.” He leans back, his eyes shining with… something. “Being your BFF for the rest of time would still make me happy. As long as I have you in my li—”

Whatever Castiel wanted to say never gets said, Dean swallowing the words before they ever pass his lips.

When Dean wakes up, it’s with his arms full of the naked angel – his husband – who promised to stay with him the whole night through. He waits with his eyes closed, expecting panic to arise and fill his whole being. It never does.

He opens his eyes to see Castiel already staring at him, a soft smile on his face.

“Didn’t I tell you it was creepy to watch people sleep?” Dean says, not unkindly.

“You’re my husband. That rule doesn’t apply anymore.” As he speaks, Castiel’s smile widens, and it makes Dean’s heart skip a beat or two. He’s fucking married. To an angel of the Lord, no less. His angel.

He looks at his wedding band, then grabs Castiel’s hand to look at his. He interlocks their fingers together.

“Do you like it?” he asks, wondering if the simple iron ring is good enough for an angel. Would he prefer something in gold? A diamond, maybe?

“It’s perfect,” Castiel says, moving their hands for the sun to catch on the metal, making it shine. “Plus, iron is highly practical in our line of work. Sam chose wisely.”

“He took care of everything.” He chuckles. “I mostly panicked.”

“But you came through,” Castiel counters, kissing him on the mouth before sitting up. Dean lets out a whiny groan at the loss of warmth. 

“What now?” Castiel asks. “Do we need to go through the divorce process or—”

“What?” Dean sits up, shocked. “What the hell are you talking about? We just spent the night together. Unless…”

“But isn’t this what you do? You have sex with women, and never see them again.”

The panic he had been expecting when he woke up now rears its ugly head. “Is that what you want?” Dean’s voice is low, and what he really wants to do is act as if it doesn’t bother him. He just can’t find the will to do so.

Castiel’s smile never eases. “I want what you want, Dean. This wedding thing, when I told you about it, it was to be temporary. Remember? No legal ramifications? Not that having sex with someone means—”

“Cas, shut up, okay?”

Dean feels a bit bad about his tone when he sees Castiel’s eyes widen, and he closes his mouth with a pop.

“Sorry… I just mean—Would you like some coffee?” he asks, getting out of bed. He puts on the underwear that had found themselves flung over the trash can. He then goes to the complimentary coffee machine but doesn’t start it up.

“That free coffee’s usually crap. What do you say we order breakfast?” He turns to see Castiel still in bed, all in his naked glory with his lips pinched tight. “Breakfast?” he says again, which grants him with a head tilt.

“I can speak now?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Cas. I just meant… We really should talk some more, but I need some coffee in me, all right? And food.”

Castiel nods, grabbing his oversized boxers. “I agree that we need to talk. I don’t need food, but I’ll have coffee.”

It’s enough for Dean’s nervousness to ease, and he nods, grabbing the hotel’s binder next to the coffee machine. He orders coffee and the biggest breakfast plate they have, hoping they’ll be up with the cart sooner rather than later. 

Because right now, what Dean would prefer to do is go back to the bed and kiss Castiel silly. And if the look on Cas’s face is anything to go by, he wants the very same thing. Except they still haven’t had the talk. So neither of them move, caught in a silent conversation, blue against green in the morning light. Dean can’t say how long they’ve been locking eyes when Castiel breaks the spell to speak.

“I know you asked me not to say a word,” Castiel starts, holding a finger up when Dean wants to object. “Let me say this, please.” Dean sighs, then nods, leaning back in the armchair. The further, the better. For now, anyway.

“I only want you to know that I do love you. In every way possible, and not only as a friend. You must know that you not returning the sentiment doesn’t mean I would ever abandon you. I meant it when I said we were BFFs. Best Friends Forever. So if you don’t want this to be a marriage, I will respect your wishes. If you want it, I will honor you the way you deserve to be honored.”

“Cas—”

The breath Dean lets out when knocks resonate at the door is a relieved one. Not because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas, but because he wasn’t lying when he said he needed coffee and food. Or at least just coffee. Something to spark some life back into his brain.

“Hold that thought,” he says as he goes to answer the door. On the other side is the awaited breakfast on a cart, which gets pushed inside by an employee. Dean stops the man from going to far by pushing a five-dollar bill onto his chest. “Thanks, I got it.”

“Thank you, sir,” the man says before retreating to the hall, letting Dean close the door behind him. Dean rolls the cart toward the bed. He prepares two cups of the better coffee, handing one to Cas before sitting next to him with his own cup. They take a couple of minutes to sip in silence, Dean letting out an eased hum as the caffeine starts doing its job.

This time, Castiel does wait for Dean to be ready. He’s visibly eager, his gaze never leaving Dean, but he’s still patient. It gives Dean a minute to think. He knows he sucks when it comes to words, and the last thing he wants is to mess this up. Actually, he knows what he wants to say. He just needs a minute to remember it. When he deems himself ready, he takes a deep breath and puts his cup back on the cart.

Castiel quirks an eye at him, not objecting when Dean takes the cup from him also to put it away. Dean then grabs his hands, holding them the way Cas held his during the ceremony.

“Cas—” Dean’s voice breaks. It’s almost enough for him to stop altogether. He wills his fears away and clears his throat, then starts again. “Cas… I love you.” He swallows, surprising even himself that he had been able even to say it. Emboldened, he starts reciting the words Myrtle had wanted him to say before, and that Cas had been able to repeat to him. He lets go of Castiel’s hands, only to hold the one sporting the ring.

“My heart is in this ring. My love is in this ring. I promise to be your—hmm—faithful huss—husband, to love you through the best and the worst, through the…” He pauses, not sure what comes next.

Castiel, with tears threatening to spill, mouths the next words, and smiles.

“Through the difficult and the easy.” The emotion is thick in his throat, but Dean takes another deep breath, determined to see it through. “I promise you my unconditional love, and I give you my—” Dean can feel his eyes filling up with tears, too. He breathes deeply, having to wipe a hand down his face in order to go on. “I give you my unwavering trust. When you look at this ring, remember that I love you always.”

He’s barely done speaking that Castiel’s mouth is on his, their bodies soon coming together. Not in the way they did the night before when there were still uncertainties. No. This time, what happens can be called legit lovemaking, Castiel giving Dean access to his whole being, body and – well, grace, if not soul. Both grateful and greedy, Dean accepts his gift, rocking into him until his angel cries in bliss before following in kind.

They fall asleep again, the untouched breakfast growing cold on its plate.

_**To be continued…** _


	5. A New Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I hate? Endings!!! Mostly when I have to write them.
> 
> Starting is easy… ending is HARD!!! (for me)
> 
> Anyway, I think I’m satisfied with this ending. It’s happy, it’s fluffy, it’s a bit funny (well, I find it funny, anyway). I just had to get that story out, it had been nagging at me since I saw that article about BFF weddings. Turns out I wanted to write about BFFs-who-had-yet-to-realize-they-were-in-love weddings. 
> 
> I hope you will like it. Thanks for reading, thanks for the kudos, and thanks for the comments. I appreciate each and everyone of you!!! 
> 
> This being said, please stay safe, take care of yourselves, and EVERYTHING WILL BE OK! 🌈

It’s Dean’s phone that wakes him up the second time around. He needs to untangle himself from Castiel’s hold to find the phone. It’s still in his slacks, which had been thrown toward the bathroom at some point the night before. He finds it too late, not surprised to see Sam as the missed call.

He doesn’t have time to call him back that Castiel’s phone starts ringing. The trenchcoat is right next to Dean’s pants, so he fishes the phone from the inside pocket.

“Yeah.”

“Dean? I tried your phone just now. Did you lose it?”

“We were—I was asleep, didn’t get to it fast enough.”

“You said ‘we’… So, you guys—”

Nope. He’s not letting his little brother go there. “What do you want?”

Dean turns to Castiel when he hears him moving around in bed. He licks his lips, the angel’s lower belly still sporting the traces of their previous activities.

“Will you guys be ready to leave soon? Check-out is in an hour.”

Dean looks at his watch if only to confirm. He hadn’t checked before, but it might have been kind of early when they first woke up. Now it’s eleven, and he’d rather not have to leave.

“Maybe we could stay a bit longer?” he tries, already knowing it’s unlikely. This whole trip might have cost a bundle already. Charlie may have been able to find a way for them to have almost unlimited funds, they still had to be careful, so their cards didn’t get flagged. Sam’s response is what Dean had expected.

“We can’t… Plus, we got a real-life to go back to. There are real monsters out there to be dealt with.”

“Yeah, I know. All right, we’ll meet you downstairs in half an hour.” He hangs up, not waiting for whatever else Sam could have been about to say.

“Everything okay?” Castiel asks, still in bed and looking all kinds of delicious.

“Yeah, all’s good. We gotta meet Sam downstairs in thirty,” Dean says, ambling toward the bed with a single thought in mind: Kissing the hell out of his angel. He doesn’t get to do it as much as he wanted, Castiel pulling away far too soon.

“Maybe we should get dressed, then,” he says, his hand wrapped warm on the back of Dean’s neck. “And a shower would do you some good.”

Dean huffs. “Are you saying that I smell?”

Castiel only smiles before dropping a quick kiss on Dean’s nose. “Go on. Sam won’t appreciate us being late.” He gets off the bed to go around the room and pick up their clothes. Dean didn’t see it happen, but Castiel is clean now. All that’s left from their romp in the sheets is the red mark Dean sucked low on his hip.

“Only twenty minutes left, Dean. Go!”

Dean huffs again but still obliges. He’s back in the room ten minutes later, his skin still damp as he puts his civilian clothes on. The suit he had been wearing the day before is back in its garment bag, thanks to Cas.

Castiel waits at a safe distance, especially since Dean started kissing him when he came out of the shower. They would probably be on their way to needing another shower if Castiel hadn’t moved out of his reach when he did.

Once fully dressed, Dean goes to the cart. The breakfast he never ate is still there, under the bell-shaped cover. Of course, everything on the plate is cold now, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping a sausage, fried egg, and bacon in one of the pancakes. He dips one end in the small cup of syrup and bites half of his creation. He moans around his mouthful, then hands the other half to Cas, who shakes his head. Dean shrugs, shoving the other half in his mouth with his first bite hardly swallowed.

“You think you can chew and walk at the same time?” Castiel asks, giving him an unimpressed look. A similar look falls over Dean’s face as he prepares himself a new pancake wrap. He then grabs his duffel and goes to open the door.

“You comin’?” he asks Castiel, who rolls his eyes as he grabs Dean’s garment bag.

The one thing Dean hadn’t expected was to feel things change the second they stepped out of the room. His desire to touch and kiss Castiel is still there. He’s just not sure he wants to go all out in the PDA department. They had done enough of that the night before. Leaving the safe cocoon of their room seems sufficient to temper his desires a bit. 

Castiel appears to be of the same mindset, not trying to hold Dean’s hand as they make their way to the lobby. Their shoulders brush from time to time, but that’s something they always do. With all the gripe Dean gave Cas about personal space, it still became inexistent over the years. Neither of them noticed, nor did they object.

When they get to the front desk, Sam is there completing the transaction. When they join him, the clerk smiles and nods at them.

“Congratulations on your wedding, Mr. Winchester, Mr. Novak.” Her smile is bright and sincere, something Dean can appreciate. He nods back at her in thanks, Castiel doing the same. “Was the room to your liking?” She blushes as she realizes how her questions could be taken, averting her gaze to concentrate on her computer instead.

And because he chooses to take the question in the most salacious angle, Dean turns to Castiel to wink at him. He answers the question, just not for the young woman’s benefit. “I’d say the room was very nice,” he says, his voice low.

Castiel nods, then turns to the clerk – Gloria, according to her nametag. “Thank you, the room was immensely satisfying, Gloria.” He spoke loud enough, and there was no way she could have mistaken his words for anything but what they were.

“Okay, good,” she says in a stammer, her cheeks crimson red now.

It didn’t matter that he pretty much started the whole thing, Dean knows he’s just as flushed. He clears his throat, glancing at his brother to find him grinning.

“Shut up,” he says through his teeth, which only serves in making Sam laugh. He scowls at him, now decided that messing with his jerk of a brother would be well deserved.

“By the way, Sammy, I’m a married man now. That means my husband gets to ride shotgun,” Dean says after a pause – pause which Sam hadn’t used to shut his pie hole.

That is what makes him stop laughing. “You wouldn’t dare,” Sam says, visibly offended.

“Watch me,” Dean only responds, grabbing Castiel’s hand to pull him outside, leaving Sam behind to finish the transaction. Thanks to his gigantic legs, Sam manages to catch up with them, going to stand in front of the passenger door with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Move,” Dean says. When Sam doesn’t, he goes to unlock his door, guiding Castiel inside so he can slide to the passenger seat.

“You’re such a jerk, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a bitch. That’s why you’re riding in the back. And this way, I get to hold my hubby’s hand while I drive.” Dean shuts his door and starts the car, revving the engine to signify they’re ready to go.

“Dean, I don’t mind sitting in the backseat, you know. I’m used to it. Plus, your brother is very tall.”

Dean keeps an eye on his brother, sulking outside, as he speaks. “I know… I just wanna mess with him a little.” He takes Castiel’s hand in his, dropping a small kiss over his knuckles. “And I wasn’t lying. I’d like to try holding your hand like this when I drive.”

What Castiel doesn’t know is how Dean has always wished he could do that. He may have only been a kid, he remembers his parents doing just that in the Impala. This one particular image comes to mind: Him riding in the Impala, sitting in his very pregnant mother’s lap. She had her hand intertwined with his father’s as they made their way to wherever. The memory stopped before they ever got anywhere.

Dean wants to tell Cas about that souvenir. That’s kind of surprising, seeing as he’s never shared it with anyone, not even Sam. It’s this little thing that’s his, and his only, and now he really wants to share it with Cas.

“I remember Mom and Dad doing this,” he says, rubbing his thumb on the back of Castiel’s hand. “Sammy wasn’t even born yet.”

“You remember this far back?”

Dean shrugs. “It might even be my first memory… The only one before Sam was born. The next one is Mom in a hospital bed with Dad holding out baby Sammy so I could see him.”

Sam chooses this exact moment to open the door, groaning as he folds himself on the backseat.

“You’ll pay for that,” he says. About to say something back, Dean notices the wink Sam sends to Castiel. It makes Dean feel a little better to know Sam isn’t really pissed for real, but he still wants to see how far he can push his little brother’s buttons.

“You know, while you’re back there, you should take a nap,” Dean says, keeping an eye on him through the rearview mirror. “This way, you’ll be able to take over later.” 

“I could drive again,” Castiel offers. Dean shakes his head, hating that he has to let Cas’s hand go to put the car in reverse.

“Nah… While Sam drives, we’ll get to snuggle in the backseat. Huh, Sammy? You won’t mind, will you?”

When Sam meets his eyes in the mirror, the annoyance in there looks genuine. But he doesn’t answer, making himself comfortable as much as he can.

“We’ll see,” he eventually answers.

Soon, they’re on the road back home, Dean with his hand back in Castiel’s and Sam doing whatever on his phone, then on his laptop – after making Dean stop to grab it from his duffel in the trunk. They stop mid-afternoon in a Biggerson’s for a late lunch, the newlyweds sitting together on one side of the booth.

As they wait for their food, Sam takes the laptop he brought in. Dean pays no attention to him, his gaze lost in Castiel’s. It’s when Sam clears his throat – loudly – that Dean snaps out of his contemplation.

“Huh?”

“I think I found a case.” As he speaks, Sam turns the computer to show them a news article about violent animal attacks in Ardmore, Oklahoma. “I hacked my way into the police files. They all say the same thing: The victims were drained of their blood.”

For the first time since he woke up, the butterflies in Dean’s belly ease up. He’s getting in work mode again. “Vampires,” he and Cas say as one. “Oklahoma… It’s quite the detour,” Dean adds.

He takes his phone out, starting up the maps app to find how to get to Ardmore. They’re in Salina, Utah, and making their way to Oklahoma should take at least fifteen hours.

“Do we know anyone in those parts?” he asks, looking through his contact list. “Because there’s no way we can be there before noon tomorrow.” He looks up. “That’s if we never stop. Not for a nap, and not for bathroom breaks.”

It’s Sam who calls their server to have their food prepared to go. Like they did before, Castiel will be driving while the brothers eat their breakfast. This time, Sam doesn’t bitch about being relegated to the backseat. He starts to snore soon after finishing up his meal, leaving Cas and Dean to enjoy the open road in comfortable silence.

It’s at that moment that it hits Dean. He looks at the ring on his finger, then at Castiel. Not being the one at the wheel certainly has its advantages: He can keep his eyes on the angel without endangering them or Baby. Also, he finds that he doesn’t feel any different about Cas.

The realization is not that he feels different today than he did before. The difference is that he knows how to call it now. He’s not confused or in denial. Not anymore. The warmth he’d feel toward Castiel was always there. It’s been there for years, lurking in the shadows, unnamed.

“I think I’ve felt this way for a long time,” he says, prompting Castiel to glance at him.

“What way?” There’s a hint of a smile in Castiel’s voice. Dean rolls his eyes.

“You know what way… Pretty sure that seed was planted when you came to see me in that barn.”

“You stabbed me. You couldn’t have liked me all that much.”

Dean groans at the memory. Still, he can’t find himself being all that sorry. At the time, it made sense.

“I was terrified, man. Even demons were scared shitless.”

Castiel huffs a laugh, glancing at Dean again. “How the world has changed.”

“It has.”

Dean sends a look toward his brother to see him still fast asleep. He licks his lips, moving sideways to sit against Castiel. “If Sammy wasn’t in the backseat, I’d have you pull over.” He wraps an arm around Castiel’s shoulders, not even bothered anymore that he’s not the one driving.

“If we didn’t have a job to get to, we wouldn’t even be in this car right now,” Castiel counters, dropping his right hand on Dean’s thigh to start caressing it. “And if I thought you could be discreet, I would want to touch you. Take your penis out of your pants and stroke it until you ejaculate.”

Before Dean can lecture Cas about which words don’t sound sexy, the wooly mammoth in the backseat squeals in indignation.

“I swear to God, if you guys don’t stop this crap right now, I’m jumping out of the car.”

Still with his arm around Castiel, Dean turns to Sam, waggling his brow. “You better get used to it, Sammy. You’re the one who made this happen. It’s your fault!”

“Although I am incredibly grateful for your implication, I have to agree with Dean.”

“He’s my husband. He has to agree with me,” Dean says, overly smug

“Not so much,” Castiel counters. “But in this case, you are. I’m afraid this is your new normal, Sam.”

“Our new normal,” Dean parrots, his expression softening as he leans to kiss Castiel on the cheek. He then turns to his brother, a surge of affection flooding his whole body. He smiles, not in the mood to tease him anymore. Not too much, anyway

“Thank you for meddling in, Sammy. Now, butt out!”

The pursed lips he gets as an answer is enough for Dean to know that this new normal of theirs? Without being all that different, it’s infinitely better.

_**The End** _


End file.
